Last Shore Leave
by Glenonaya
Summary: The five year mission is almost over. Jim, Spock and McCoy are on their last shore leave. K/S story, but not very graphic. Lots of fluff and a hint of angst.


_Birthday fic for Thosevulcaneyebrows. Mostly because she was so incredibly nice to me when I abruptly beamed aboard this fandom a few months ago. Happy birthday dear._

_I meant it as a ficlet, but as is ever the case with me it grew. Originally posted on AO3 on the Captain's birthday, so if you feel you've read this before you may in fact have done so._

_Now betaed by the ever lovely Lucycantdance._

Jim looked out over the ocean, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

The day was mostly overcast, the sea greyish green and brooding, but occasionally the sun would break through the heavy clouds, lighting the water with dazzling brightness. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold, briny air, then exhaled sharply, expelling the last bit of tension from his body along with the carbon dioxide.

He had needed this shore leave, the entire crew did. The last couple of months had been mad. He suddenly grinned. Heck, the last five years had been hectic, bizarre and often maddening beyond belief, but now it was nearly over. The Enterprise's five year mission had little more than two months left to go and that would be that.

His smile faded as the thought settled in, leaving him melancholic. _Going back to Earth, his crew splitting up, five years together and he might never see them again. Particularly-_

"Captain?" Spock's quiet, precise voice interrupted his train of thought.

Jim turned and found the Vulcan standing on the rocky beach less than two feet away, dressed in a woollen sweater to ward off the chill air, old-fashioned camera in his hands. "I believe the correct expression in this case is, 'say cheese'."

The absurd words from Spock's made Kirk laugh and the Vulcan immediately raised the camera and snapped a picture.

"It is a most illogical saying."

"Not entirely. If you do in fact say 'cheese' your mouth will imitate a smile." Jim was still grinning.

Spock tried mouthing the word, then shook his head with a small frown. "A superficial similarity at best, Captain."

"Well I suppose it will have to do if the photographer can't get a real smile. And how many times do I have to say this, when we're off-duty it's Jim. You don't usually have problems remembering things."

"I shall endeavour to do so." There was a half-second pause, then. "Captain." Spock's eyebrows were slightly raised and his eyes were twinkling merrily.

Jim laughed again. If it had accomplished nothing else, the five year mission had given a certain Vulcan a sense of humour.

One of the local sea birds glided past them and perched itself on a rock further down the beach, its white and gold plumage glittering softly in the weak light, the clouds having drawn closed once more. Spock turned away, intent on capturing its image. Jim studied him closely. Dressed in a sweater, jeans and boots, all pitch black in colour, the Vulcan looked austere, almost ascetic.

_And hot as hell_, a small voice whispered in the back of Kirk's mind. He wanted to step up to Spock, wrap his arms around the Vulcan's chest and snuggle against his back, but as always he slapped the impulse down. His First Officer wouldn't approve of such a blatant expression of their relationship. In fact Kirk wondered if anyone on board was aware that the relationship between Captain and Commander had been intimate for years.

_Bones_, his mind immediately answered. _You can't expect him not to have realised ten minutes after it happened. Okay, but apart from McCoy then? Probably no one_.

Oh they'd have seen the flirting, the two of them had been doing that from the beginning. At first Jim had flirted _at_ Spock, getting only puzzlement in return, then – hesitantly at first, as if he wasn't sure of the appropriate response, then with ever-gaining confidence – the Vulcan had started flirting back. For a long time Jim had thought that flirting and the occasional touching and hugging would be all that would ever happen, but then they went to Gamma Hydra IV and contracted the ageing illness.

That evening Spock had come to his quarters, as he so often did. But when Jim let him in, the Vulcan had remained standing right inside the door, dark eyes intent on his captain. When Kirk stepped towards him, Spock rushed forward, wrapping one arm tightly around the captain's chest, the hand of the other travelling over his body as if to assure the Vulcan that Jim was indeed alive and well. Kirk had found himself unable to _not_ respond to that hand's intense search of his body, but when he tried to apologise and retreat, Spock had studied his face with those dark eyes for a long time, then without a word kissed him thoroughly. Things had rapidly progressed from there.

They hadn't talked much that night, or any night since for that matter. In fact they hadn't really talked about their relationship at all. Whenever Jim had tried to bring it up Spock had either subtly changed the subject or distracted him. Those hands and that mouth could be very distracting. But it left Kirk with a problem; what would happen to their relationship once the five year mission was over?

A coldness suddenly washed over Kirk as a conclusion he had not thought of before occurred to him. _Spock's reticence to talk about their relationship, his constant use of 'Captain' in casual settings, the 'arm's length' principle he employed in their mental joinings – joinings that were necessary to sexually satisfy the Vulcan but that had always felt... restrained somehow. What if Spock had deliberately tried to keep things casual, detached? What if he had never been interested in anything more?_

Kirk's chest contracted painfully at the thought.

The sun abruptly broke through the clouds again, illuminating Spock's black clad figure, giving his hair its bluish black halo.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut.

_Oh the irony if that was true. How many hearts had he left broken – intentionally or accidentally – across space and time in the last five years alone? That the one person he really wanted, that he loved with every fibre of his being, might not return those feelings? But why? Vulcans didn't do casual sex, so why would Spock...? Had he felt... obligated somehow? To return the human's interest even if he didn't truly share it? Sometimes the Vulcan seemed to understand so little of human interaction._

The thought made Jim feel sick. _Had he forced his friend into something the other man didn't really want all this time, and just not realised it? How could he have been so self-centred?_

A choked sob escaped him against his will. A moment later he felt strong, lithe hands grab hold of his shoulders.

"Jim?"

Kirk forced his eyes open and found Spock staring at him, a puzzled expression on the Vulcan's face. "Have you been hurt, Jim?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

"I think I'm the one who should be asking you that," Kirk said, voice rough with emotions.

The puzzled frown deepened. "I do not understand. Why would you believe you had cause to ask that question?"

Jim swallowed, opting for the direct approach. "Why have you been sleeping with me these past three-and-a-half years?"

A soft verdant blush spread over finely chiselled cheekbones at the same time as the Vulcan's features merged into their normal inscrutable mask. "I should think the answer to that was obvious."

"No Spock, no more evasion tactics or changing the subject." Jim was determined to get an answer, no matter how much that answer might end up hurting him.

For a second it looked as if Spock was going to turn around and walk away. Then he spoke. "Very well," his voice was clipped. "If it is indeed not obvious to you. I find you physically attractive, intellectually stimulating and your company pleases me."

"That's all?"

"What else is there?"

Anger flared irrationally in Jim. "I forgot, Vulcans don't feel," he snapped.

"My feelings on the subject are irrelevant. You have on several occasions made it explicitly clear that you have neither the time nor the inclination for a committed relationship."

Jim gaped. "You're kidding right?"

"I hardly find this matter appropriate for levity, Captain."

Back to captain. _Ouch._

"Surely you know... All those times we've joined minds, you must have seen- How could you not?" Jim knew he was incoherent, but Spock's words had been as incomprehensible as they were painful.

"I have only joined our minds to the degree necessary in each case. To examine another person's mind without permission is unethical and would be a betrayal of the trust you've put in me."

Kirk felt his legs go weak beneath him and decided to sit down on the rocks, uncomfortable though it was, rather than risk having them collapse under him. As he did, his gaze glided out over the ocean, locking on the horizon.

"All these years- You never- Well of course you didn't, you're ethical to a fault," Jim muttered under his breath. He looked up at the Vulcan looming over him, gaze staring distantly towards the harbour, eyes unseeing.

"Spock," he called softly. When the Vulcan didn't respond he tugged gently on one black trouser leg. "Spock, come here."

Spock looked down pensively for a moment, then crouched down, balancing elegantly on the balls of his feet.

"When I said those words, all of them, they were always addressed to someone else. Did you think they also applied to you, to us?"

"I see no reason why they should not."

"Spock, in the last five years there's only one person I've been interested in having a committed relationship with. Except he didn't seem interested in a relationship at first, and once we got there, every time I tried to start a conversation on the topic of long-term relationships he changed the subject."

Spock looked dubious.

"If you don't believe me, read my mind. You said it was unethical to do it without permission? Well you have my permission to do so."

The Vulcan still hesitated.

"It is, as you know, an intimate act and one I dislike doing in public."

Jim looked up and down the rocky coast. A few people milled about back on the pier in the distance, but on the beach itself only a few of the gold and white sea birds kept them company. He looked pointedly at Spock.

"It's not like we have an audience here."

Spock's features turned neutral. "Very well. As you wish." He sat down on the rocks, his legs crossed beneath him, and raised his hands to Jim's face. He spoke no words, as they were no longer necessary for either of them, and simply placed his fingers on the human's meld points.

Jim closed his eyes as he instantly felt the usual impression of Spock in his mind – heat, wind, a sharp dry smell/taste, an intricate labyrinthine presence – hovering at the edge of his consciousness, moving no further than it ever had.

"_Well?" _he spoke in his mind.

There were no words in return, but the presence deepened, somehow, grew more intense than Jim had ever experienced it, leaving him breathless and shivering with something akin to anticipation. Then, with unusual abruptness, the contact ended. Jim opened his eyes and found Spock staring at him with an expression he could only call dumbfounded.

The Vulcan's hand dropped from his face and the black haired man looked away. When he finally spoke his voice was low and hoarse. "It... appears that I have misinterpreted the evidence. Forgive me."

Jim longed to put his arms around the Vulcan and cuddle him, but knew that Spock would find such a public display of affection distasteful. Instead he said, "there's nothing to forgive my friend. I should have pushed the subject long ago. But there was always something that got in the way, a Klingon armada, a transporter accident."

Spock turned his head and looked at him again, a light twinkle in his eyes. "Nazis in space?" he offered.

Kirk laughed. "God don't remind me." He shook his head. Jim rose to his feet and held out* his hand towards the Vulcan. Spock took it and Jim pulled him to his feet, but even when the* other man was standing he did not let go, relishing the feel of the cool, firm hand in his.

"So? What happens now?"

"Please specify. In what context?"

"With us, in two months' time? I mean, you must have been making plans based on what you thought you knew. Will you still stick to them?"

Spock slowly pulled his hand from Jim's grasp and took a few steps away, turning his back to Kirk. "I had intended to go to Vulcan," he said in a calm voice.

"Leave Starfleet?" A sense of trepidation rose in Jim.

"Affirmative. I have acquired many skills over the years that would be useful to my people."

"They'd be useful to Starfleet too."

"Correct. But there are many places where my skills would be considered useful."

Kirk swallowed hard. That last sentence. He had never heard Spock sound so... the only word he could think of was, bitter. A thought struck him as he studied his friend's back. _You've always been useful haven't you? Always wanted for what you could do, never for who you are. Not amongst your own people, not in Starfleet. And I never told you, did I?_

Kirk walked around the black clad figure so they were once more facing each other.

"Spock I- If you really want to go to Vulcan I won't stop you. I never want to force you to do something you don't want to do, to change into someone you don't wish to be, just to please me, to be with me. But... if it were _just_ me, I would like you to stay. Not because you're useful, you already know you're that, but because I'd miss _you _every single day you're gone. Because I can see us growing old together and I desperately want that. To see your face grow lined and your hair grey." He chuckled. "I'd probably gain weight and need reading glasses. I hope you'd be able to live with that. To wake up beside you in the morning and go to bed knowing you'd join me later. I want that." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I want you."

Through the entire monologue Spock simply looked at him, his face inscrutable. When Jim finished Spock kept on looking at him in silence for several seconds.

When he spoke, the Vulcan's voice was soft. "I find myself amenable to a change in my plans."

The heart leapt in Jim's chest. "Does that mean you'll stay?"

"Affirmative."

On pure impulse Jim wrapped his arms around Spock and pressed his lips against the Vulcan's, relishing the feel of the cool skin. Then, realising what he was doing, he abruptly stepped back.

"I'm sorry Spock. Vulcans don't display affection in public. I know."

Spock's lips twitched.

"It is true that such conduct is frowned upon on my home planet. But Jim," Spock stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Jim's hips. "We are _not_ on Vulcan."

Jim found himself grinning wildly.

oOoOo

McCoy wandered along the pier towards the beach. It was about time he fetched Jim and Spock back, those Andorian shrimps wouldn't wait for them all day.

_Now where could they have got to?_

Then he spotted them, a blond man in white sweater wrapped around a taller man in a black one, kissing him like it was about to be outlawed.

_Well, well, well. About time those two came out of the closet. _Spock might be happy keeping their relationship under wraps, but Bones knew it would tear Jim apart eventually. He wasn't made for a relationship where he couldn't express how he felt in public and the occasional touch or hug wasn't going to cut it in the long run. Though he hadn't expected them to make their first 'public appearance' quite this spectacular.

He waited for a minute, but neither man seemed about to let go of the other. Then he turned and started walking back towards the harbour. He supposed he had better go take a look at those shrimps himself. It looked like Jim and Spock could be a while.


End file.
